


just breathe

by Obscured



Category: Martin (1977)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Crack Treated Seriously, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, F/M, Gen, Hand Jobs, Noise Kink, OOC, Other, Rimming, Short, Smut, but really its crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:07:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27625169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obscured/pseuds/Obscured
Summary: He seems to be too shy for his own good, Might become a thing--might not. It depends...
Relationships: Martin/ OfC, Martin/OC, Martin/reader
Kudos: 6





	just breathe

He was so embarrassed he thought he might faint, the sounds escaping his lips were bordering on obscene. He settled for crossing his arms over his eyes, when not grasping the sheets once he started to get too loud. He had been at your place for less than an hour and within the first few minutes you were adamant on getting him undressed. You listened as he ranted how his shift went at Cuda’s shop, all the while you leisurely began to kiss each of his fingertips. “I just… I really missed you. “ he finally said. That was seemingly all it took. Soon enough you were ushering him upstairs with the promise to make it all go away. He had no idea how you could make him so comfortable yet flustered all at once. Some strange form of telepathy, what he needed to hear most was always whispered directly into his ear.

The second the two of you got to your room, your lips were immediately on his. Tongue tracing along his bottom lip before drawing it between your teeth. Kissing you was heaven, he swore that he could probably get off solely from the act. The way you seemed to drink him in, lips melding effortlessly against his own. Your breathy sighs and whimpers as his fingers entwine in your hair. It almost felt like he was confessing every time your lips happened to meet. The two of you made your way over to the bed, all the while your hands flitter under his shirt. Fingernails scraping against his skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps. “Take this off” Soon enough your heads were resting adjacently against the pillow, your fingers tracing lazy circles against his lower back. He was undressed completely, you only took off your shirt, you were asking him again about his day. It was awful-- decidedly awful, you started kissing him once again. This time you seemed to have a purpose. His eyes widened as you began to undress, your bra carelessly tossed over his head. Jeans, underwear and socks rest at a heap at the foot of the bed. 

You kept kissing him, everywhere-- from his lips his to his eyelids, the fluttering pulse in his neck, all the while your hands continued to roam. As he shifts onto his back, your wonderful mouth ventures downwards. Teeth scraping over his collar bone, leaving mouth shaped bruises along his chest. One of your favorite things about Martin was his brutal honesty-- his blunt way of speaking. You always loved the idea of marking him, claiming him in a way. The lovebites were more than enough, and he even confessed to you one day that he liked it. He loved the fact that you wanted to make him yours. “ I am yours..completely.” He said that he actually liked the way the marks left a lingering sting-- he would find his hand ghosting over them throughout the day.

Your lips were poised at his hip bone sucking gently adamant to leave another mark. You stroked him slow and leisurely-- from base to tip, occasionally with your thumb lingering at the head. He was close, you knew that by now.. He practically throbbed beneath your hand. You could feel each shiver as it revibrated from his very core-- more pre cum leaks against your hand. You release his flesh with a resounding pop, more focused on the task at hand. Flushed red and leaking, you discovered from day one that everything about the boy was decidedly.. Pretty. You watch as another drop of precum slides from the tip. Deciding to give into the urge, your lips wrap around him gently, unable to suppress your moan as the familiar taste coats your tongue. That earns you another shiver, his spine nearly arches off the bed. Pushing him further into your willing mouth you draw back as you swirl your tongue over the head. The taste of him alone was enough to get you going-- there was always an underlying sweetness. Sometimes you would catch glimpses of it in the middle of the day-- it was really bizarre everything about Martin was undeniably “sweet”

Your name echoes from his lips like a chant, even when you release him, tongue delving lower. Tracing over the delicate orbs, earning you another small shiver as he pulses against your hand. One thing you loved about Martin was how he was so endlessly responsive. It didn’t take much to leave him like putty in your hands. He was so shy, to the point that it was completely endearing-- ashamed of every noise he made. You constantly tried to reassure him that it was good. “ Do you like that? Please make some noise for me” His arms would always cross over his eyes trying to obscure his face as the beautiful noises flowed. You were grateful that you only lived a few streets over, and that you could share your small apartment completely alone. The times that you managed to take him at Cuda’s house-- you would thrust your fingers into his mouth just to keep the noises at bay. But the two of you were alone now, why was he still so embarrassed… you wanted him to give into it completely. Sinking lower, your tongue briefly encircles his entrance-- a strangled moan escapes his lips

“Y/n plea--what are you---ohh” 

You continue to lavish his hole with attention, noting how his fingers move to your hair. He never liked to guide you, or direct you in any given way-- he left it up to you to figure out what he liked. How he liked it, and how much. His body was much like a map and it was up to you to figure out where he needed you to go. The second you touched him there you could feel the jolt of pleasure course up his spine. You couldn't figure out if he was trying to draw you closer or pull away. His heavy pants turned to needy whimpers. He was rocking himself against your willing tongue all the while his fingers grasp aimlessly at the sheets. “W-wwhy are y-youu ohh.. Don’t h-have too-ahh f--” The feeling of his nails digging into your scalp fuels the motion of your tongue. He was rocking against you now moans increasing in volume. You begin stroking him again and at this point he was completely soaked. Your palm is coated with his arousal he begins to fuck himself against your hand…

All it took was a few more languid strokes before warm sticky seed seeps through your fingertips. 

You allow yourself a moment to regard him, arms still crossed over his face--utterly spent. Your beautiful shy boy, redness painted all across his chest and neck. Nipples hard as rocks as he pants, ribs contracting with every ragged breath. Maybe someday, he could see himself the way that you did. Maybe then, he’d finally understand.


End file.
